


More Than Meets the Eye

by halocentury



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon Injuries, Hiding Medical Issues, M/M, Medical Procedures, Pre 5.12, The elusive "six months" period
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24843142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halocentury/pseuds/halocentury
Summary: After his promotion to commissioner, Jim's work has taken him away from the streets, working with a higher class of criminals.Yet one high-class street-wise criminal will always catch his eye. And arm.That extra wobble to Penguin's - Oswald's step is just enough to keep him watching, and questioning him one murky evening.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	More Than Meets the Eye

**Author's Note:**

> Oswald was in very close range of that grenade that was thrown up onto the barricade. It leaves me to question why his injuries weren't more serious...

A commissioner’s work didn’t involve the streets that he spent most of his time in. Used to spend most of his time in, chasing after leads and criminals, putting the right person behind bars before somehow they escaped, often more than once. Sleep was something he dreamed of, fueling himself instead with coffee and the pursuit of justice. 

By the time he was commissioner, he was replacing his double bed for a queen sized. Now that he was a married man, his old apartment was rented off to someone else, and his – their new home, had enough room for the weekend visits of his daughter.

His work was a different kind of tiring, swimming with the sharks, just like Harvey told him. 

He was done swimming after the bottom-feeders, still haunting Gotham’s underworld. That fell under the duty of Harvey and Lucius, headed up by Alvarez and Harper. There were new faces, but normally they were just new names, elusive like their predecessors. Strange. Ivy Pepper. Firefly. Freeze. Ridder. Penguin.

The last he had seen of Penguin – Oswald, he expected it to be when he was appointed commissioner of the city, watching in attendance. The bandages were gone from his face, replaced by glasses and a black patch covering his right eye. 

He wasn’t able to keep his own eyes on him for long, as he did the rounds with Lee by his side. Harvey pulled him aside a little after, standing over the hall from the second floor and at that point he was aware that Oswald had slipped away.

Swam away.

He knew, one way or another, he would resurface when the time was right. To strike and reclaim the parts of the city that he deemed his.

-  
-

“You’re lucky that you brought him in when you did. If you were any later, there would’ve been too many complications.”

He should’ve been aware that something was afoot when he spotted Oswald first. It wasn’t until the slighter man walked into him, his shoulder bumping his arm without comment, that he did a double-take.

It wasn’t that dark out, even for a murky twilight that was the typical weather for the city. He had caught a glimpse of a sneer and he knew that the man would’ve normally vocalized his dissent in some form or another. Would’ve made a conversation of quips when realising that it was the former captain of the GCPD.

He kept walking.

It had to have been two months since they were in the same room together, maybe three, and he still wore the patch over his eye. 

He did walk into his blind side, so perhaps that explained it.

“Penguin?” 

The man turned around, more of a wobble to his gait than usual. “Oh, on an evening stroll through the city, rather than getting your security to accompany you home?” This was familiar, the patronizing tone and twist of his lips. “You have more confidence in your restructuring program than you should.”

“When the former Kingpin of the Underworld needs to be addressed to realise he’s walked into his favourite adversary, the streets are obviously safer. Clumsiness aside,” Jim countered, smirking despite the bemused look Oswald was giving him. 

“Not clumsiness,” he insisted, lifting his chin and shoulders as Jim strolled back towards him. “I just assumed you had different social circles, which you do. When was the last time you mingled in and around the city, like the detective you used to be? Now you rub shoulders with the worst kind of criminals. Politicians are a slippery sort. Honesty is only given by them when it benefits themselves.”

“Sounds familiar.” 

Laughing haughtily, Oswald stepped closer until they were nearly nose to nose. “Not so. At least with criminals, we understand boundaries. Trades. Intel. Politicians are always looking to use one another as another stepping block higher up the chain.”

“Pot, kettle.” He had to bite back the laugh, the words slipping off his lips easily before realising how apt they were. “That was your rise to fame.” This time he did smirk, but not fully coming to fruition, tempering off; it wasn’t a thoughtful air that followed but a soft-edged, but still pointed retort. “And now… I don’t even know where you are. Certainly haven’t heard your name in a while. Must be descending. Too many corners and too many players.” 

“Can’t say that I’ve missed this.” Dark eyebrows lifted, a mocking expression that was cut short when a flinch caught Oswald’s right eye. At least that’s what he thought it was, the black patch covering it. “Absence does not make the heart grow fonder.”

Jim watched him for a few more seconds, Oswald turning to continue on his way. “How long have you been wearing that eye patch?” 

He wobbled again, glancing over his shoulder. “It’s not an element of time. It’s a choice, half fashion, half not needing to look at all the hideous faces that surround me.”

“I’d almost say it’s effecting your balance.” He called after him. “You did happen to walk into me, and you’re having one hell of a time walking a straight line.”

“Have you really forgotten about my limp? I question your mental endurance.” 

“I haven’t forgotten anything.” He did snort under his breath as Oswald flicked his free hand, dismissive. He should take the cue to leave, but seeing him after long last, and just the two of them, he was about to ask if he wanted to grab a drink. The last they did see each other was… not on bad terms. They weren’t trying to shoot one another on the street. It was almost amicable. “You want to go-” 

Instead of a wobble, and despite a flickering streetlamp ahead, he could see Oswald’s full-height stance shudder, shoulders curving down. The hand that was once in the air lifted to his head, tight to his temple. 

His umbrella fell to the sidewalk as his shoulders tightened more, fingers spasming.

He ran after him, catching him just in time as Oswald buckled.

-  
-

Despite the near fall, and his insistence otherwise, Jim took Oswald to the hospital. He repeated to him several times he didn’t need the emergency room but Jim’s face was recognisable. As soon as the triage staff saw him coming in they ushered him up to the front. The only other people waiting around were waiting for news of the men or women who were already ushered in for medical care.

He didn’t know what to expect when the patch was pulled off. The burn beneath his eye had healed but the bright light had Oswald twisting away. Yet even the gentlest of fingers, trying to open his eye any wider than the slit Oswald peered through had Oswald batting at everyone’s hands, even when Jim tried to steady his hands in his own. 

“How did this happen?”

“Back when the army rolled in. There was a grenade thrown in but he was treated by a doctor who was present in the precinct.” 

“What did he do?”

“She-” And he snarled that correction, harsher than he should have. Clenched Oswald’s wrists hard enough but surprisingly he didn’t jerk away. “She was tending to several wounded individuals. I didn’t see precisely how she treated his injuries, but he had bandages around his head and over his eye. We weren’t exactly equipped with a full stock of medical supplies.”

“Mr. Cobblepot, did you go to a hospital, or a general practitioner, in or outside Gotham in the months that followed?” It was the doctor who asked the question, trying to get a better look at his face while the nurse assisted. Oswald didn’t respond, whether it was for refusal of admitting no or the pain. He kept flinching no matter what the doctor or nurse did.

Jim could’ve advised them to be gentler. He always had his suspicions of what happened to Oswald while undergoing Dr. Strange’s treatments, but there was also the fact that he never even got treatment for his leg, for the gunshot or the initial break that he suffered by Mooney.

He also suspected that neither nurse or doctor would heed him. Not for a criminal. Or for their horrible bedside manner.

Still they were the experts, and based on Oswald’s pain threshold, and his own knowledge, they deemed it necessary to take him into surgery. 

He called Lee, telling her that he would be home late, before taking a seat in the waiting area.

-  
-

“There is no blame on the fieldwork health care that was given, if he hadn’t been treated he would’ve been worse off sooner. But his vision was hindered badly enough at this point in time that he would’ve been blind… no more than a week from now.”

The anaesthetic hadn’t worn off, Oswald moved into a private room for recovery. On a hunch, Jim paid the bill for the surgery and hospital stay. His insurance wouldn’t cover him under any circumstance and he suspected that Oswald’s bank account wouldn’t be enough to cover the medical expenses.

If and when Lee inquired about the expenses he’ll tell her about it. 

“The damage hasn’t been entirely treated. He’ll require eye care from here on out. Glasses wouldn’t be the worst thing for him, but we’ll disclose that information to him. I don’t expect you’ll be paying for his prescription or lenses.” 

Jim shook his head, looking at the man as he rested, oblivious, in the narrow bed. “Not this time.”

The doctor left a minute later after ensuring that Oswald’s heartrate was stable and the IV was doing its job. The pain would continue to be an issue for a few more days but sleep would come to an end and the patient would be quite confused.

It wouldn’t be just confusion if Oswald woke up and he was still here.

He waited at the foot of the bed before moving slowly towards the chair to the right of the bed. He carefully pulled on Oswald’s bangs until they were lying over his forehead, careful not to position them too close to his eye, taped up after surgery. 

After all that had happened that night, his hair was still soft when he leaned in to kiss his forehead.

There was no reason to tell this part to Lee.

Oswald would never know, which would make it easier for all of them.


End file.
